The Longer You Run
by MarionGrace
Summary: Society lied. Love doesn't feel like butterflies in your stomach. It's like taking a bullet for the one holding the gun. There are no sparks. Just lies and empty promises. It's an utterly terrible feeling. It's like a drug and as soon as you take it there's no looking back. But don't panic and don't run, at least not yet. Because the longer you run, the harder it'll hit you.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own _The Outsiders_.

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><p>The sun was just starting to rise behind her. She wasn't supposed to be on school grounds on a Saturday morning but she'd been coming to the tracks when she wasn't supposed to for years. It wasn't like anybody was up to see her. Besides, if they wanted to keep people out, maybe they should get a gate that wasn't so easily jumpable.<p>

Her brother smoked pot to get high. So did most people but not her. Running was her drug. It gave her a sort of hallucinating feeling and she lost control of her body in a way. She couldn't restrain her legs from making continuous rounds around the track. The morning air only made her faster.

She would've gone out for track if she weren't a girl. She swore with every meet she'd attended that she could outrun every one of the school's supposed track-stars but she didn't bother fighting for a spot on the team. It wasn't worth the effort. Besides, she didn't want to be known as the girl who searches for trouble with faculty members. She didn't want to be known at this school at all. She could deal with sneaking onto school grounds late into the night. She doubted they'd let her on the team even if she did give them a hard time anyways.

She was a greaser.

And nobody cared about greasers.

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><p>He was awoken abruptly by a harsh knocking on the door to his room. He'd been drinking the night before. The sharp sound made his head pound, his pulse throb. He covered his face with a pillow, trying to block the noise out until the yelling started.<p>

"Dallas Winston, open this damn door before I break it down!"

Tim Shepard.

He groaned and rolled over in his bed when he recognized the voice. He had no doubt in his mind that Tim would knock on the door all day just to piss him off but this morning he sounded especially mad. He sounded capable of murder.

Dallas stood up and rubbed his eyes. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Quit making so much noise!" he mumbled, just coherently enough to be understood but the annoying sound wasn't put to rest until he flung the door open, almost getting punched in the face before Tim realized he'd answered.

"What's your problem, Shepard?"

"You're my problem, Winston," he declared, as if that wasn't evident. He pushed Dallas, almost knocking him over. Dallas took a look at the clock to see it was just past eight o'clock. He wasn't sure if he was still a little drunk or just hungover. He decided on the latter, judging by the thumping going on in his head. He was about to respond to Tim when he was pushed again and forced to take another step backwards to catch his balance. "Now, what's this I hear of you hanging around my sister, huh?"

Dallas squinted at him. Shepard's sister? He couldn't even recall her name at the moment. "Whatta you talkin' 'bout, Tim?"

"Angela told me you wouldn't leave her alone last night. She came home half past drunk at five o'clock this morning and has been going on and on since about how you wouldn't take a hint."

Dallas had the urge to laugh but he figured that wouldn't do much for him and the position he was in. "You got it wrong, Shepard. It was your baby sister that wouldn't leave me alone. She was hangin' all over me last night. She's a clingy one. I didn't touch her. You really think I'm that stupid?"

"At one of Buck's parties? Yeah, Dal, I do. If you fuckin' touched my sister I'm 'onna beat your head in so fast—"

Just before Tim Shepard could finish his threat and then follow through with it, Buck Merrill made an appearance in Dallas's doorway. He looked to be sporting the same headache as Dallas, considering the way he was rubbing the back of his neck.

"Tim, what the hell are you goin' on about? Ain't it a bit early for murderin' one another?" he questioned, leaning against the doorframe and calling forth both of the room's occupants attention. "And didn't I tell you boys I couldn't have ya both here at the same time if you're gonna beat the livin' daylights outta each other? You cause too much attention. Go kill him somewhere else."

"Buck, tell him," Dallas called, like a little kid, as Tim turned back to face him. "Wasn't Angela Shepard tryna come onto me last night? I didn't even touch her, right Buck?"

Buck narrowed his eyes, trying to recall the night before. He was fairly good at remembering events that didn't happen too long ago, even when he was drunk. He never got too wasted at his own parties anyways. He had to make sure the place stayed in tact and if the cops showed, he'd need to at least _look_ like he knew what was going on. Buck thought back to the night before. He had been with Dally but he'd been paying attention to little more than his paying customers, something Dally wasn't. However, Buck vaguely remembered seeing the flirtatious Shepard.

Buck rubbed his eyes. "Get outta here, Tim. Dal didn't do nothin' to your sister. She's a fucking instigator."

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><p><strong>AN: **Another story! Hopefully this one will stay up! Let me know how it is. Future chapters should be longer.


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